


Reprimand

by fizzan



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Domestic Discipline, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzan/pseuds/fizzan
Summary: Set during Downton Abbey Series 6, Episode 8.'If you're here to reprimand me about Edith, please don't. Tom has already torn me into strips.'Mary has just wrecked Edith's chances at happiness, perhaps forever. Tom has had enough, and takes her to task, reminding her of how Matthew might have dealt with things in the process.Contains consensual spanking of adults.
Relationships: Mary Crawley/Henry Talbot, Mary Crawley/Matthew Crawley, Tom Branson & Mary Crawley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Reprimand

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came into my head fully formed during my most recent rewatch, and wouldn't leave until I committed it to 'paper'. I hope someone out there enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> I've tried to stay as true to the characters and the period as possible, but this is my first foray into writing for Downton Abbey, so there are bound to be errors. 
> 
> Mary is my favourite character, possibly in anything, but as Edith puts it in this episode, she's 'quite a handful'.
> 
> Dialogue at the start is lifted from the script

Mary sits in the chair behind Tom’s desk in the estate office, deep in thought, unable to put the hurt on her sister’s face out of her mind. She hadn’t known where to go after exiting the dining room, and a desire not to hear remonstrations from her parents had led her here, where at least she shouldn’t see Edith.

She hears footsteps and glances up quickly, knowing at once who it is. She can feel the guilty expression steal onto her face and, hating, as usual, to show any weakness, quickly puts on her most imperious mask as Tom enters the room. She can tell from his body language that he’s furious.

“Well, you got what you wanted, Bertie has left for the train, and now Edith won’t be the next Marchioness of Hexham” Tom says, his disgust in her actions clear in his voice.

Unable to help herself, Mary bites back “well, that’s not what I wanted”. She’s aware as soon as the words leave her mouth how ridiculous they must sound.

“Isn’t it” asks Tom, his face showing his anger even more clearly at her intentionally blithe words.

“I still can’t believe she never told him, how was I to know that?” Mary says, in a final hopeless attempt to convince both of them that her sabotage of Edith hadn’t been intentional.

Tom sees straight through her denial, as she’d known he would, and near growls his next words, “don't play the innocent with me!”

“I didn't mean it” she says, suddenly desperate to claw back some semblance of control in this conversation.

This blatant falsehood enrages Tom, and he yells “Don't lie! Not to me! You can't stop ruining things! For Edith, for yourself! You'd pull in the sky if you could! ANYTHING to make you feel less frightened and alone!”

This hits too close to home, touching on the deep insecurity she’s felt since Matthew’s death and Henry’s car accident, and Mary sees red.

“You saw Henry when he was here -- high-handed, bullying, unapologetic. Am I expected to lower myself to his level and be grateful I'm allowed to do so?”

At this, Tom scoffs openly, letting his derision permeate his voice “Listen to yourself. 'Lower yourself to his level'. You're not a princess in The Prisoner of Zenda!”

She knows this, and is too strongly reminded of her twenty-one-year-old self blathering on to Matthew about Andromeda and the sea monster, so strongly reminded of a moment she’s come to be ashamed of that she almost backs down.

However, that’s never been her way and instead, she bites back at Tom viciously, rolling her eyes in a way that is eerily reminiscent of the way she’d acted prior to Matthew.

‘You don't WANT to understand me!”

The rage in Tom’s eyes reaches a new peak, and he yells “you ruined Edith's life today! How many lives are you going to wreck just to smother your misery?”

This is all too much and too accurate for Mary, and she stands up forcefully staring Tom straight in the eyes.

“I REFUSE to listen!”

She moves to leave the room and Tom blocks her way, finally saying what it’s clear he came here to say.

“You're a coward, Mary. Like all bullies, you're a coward.”  
  


This, finally, leaves her speechless, and all she can do is watch as he storms from the room. She suddenly feels rather weak and is turning to collapse into the waiting chair when Tom re-enters the room.

The fire in him has dissipated a little now, and he just looks exhausted. He stares at her for a moment and then says deliberately “what would Matthew say to you?” before finally leaving the office for real, shutting the door firmly behind him.

What would Matthew say? This reminder of her late husband, quite possibly the love of her life, is less devastating than it would have been even a year ago, time has smoothed the raw edges of the wound left by his death. Still, these words are hard to hear, especially since she knows _exactly_ what Matthew would have said, or more specifically, what he would have done.  
  


**Flashback to fve years earlier, May 1920, the evening of Edith’s failed wedding to Anthony Strallen. Edith has just sent Mary and Sybil away, and Mary is in her room **

Mary sits on her bed, deep in thought. Seeing Edith inconsolable with grief at the loss of the man that Mary knows she really did love, has awakened a feeling she doesn’t experience often, guilt. She knows that had it not been for her vengeful actions on the day of the garden party six years ago, Edith and Anthony would be happily married already. Had she not interfered Strallen’s war wound, and advanced age would have had no chance to come between them.

Deep in her regret, she doesn’t hear Matthew come into the room until she feels him sit down onto the bed next to her and speak the words ‘’Darling, whatever is the matter?” concern evident in his voice.

She sighs and turns her head towards him. She knows that she must confide in him, but she can’t bear the thought of his disappointment. He’s her greatest champion, the one person who truly believes she’s a good person, and she knows that what she’s about to tell him will disappoint him greatly and shake a little of his seemingly unshakable faith in her.

She gets up off the bed and stands before him, hands clasped

“You must promise to hear me out Matthew, what I’m going to tell you will sound ridiculous, and you’ll be disappointed in me, but I need to tell someone!”

This is clearly not what Matthew was expecting, and the shock shows in his eyes. Still, he nods, seeming to know that she needs him not to interrupt, not now she’s convinced herself to go through with this.

“Do you remember back in 1914, before the war, how everyone was so sure that Sir Anthony would propose to Edith, and then he didn’t, and it was never quite clear why?”

Matthew nods, and she can see him casting his mind back to the day of the garden party, the day that not only Edith and Strallen parted ways, but that they did also.

“I know the reason why. In fact, I _am_ the reason why” Mary says, seeing confusion play over Matthew’s perfect features.

"Mary, what can you mean? How are you the reason?”

She takes a deep breath in, knowing that the next bit will be the hardest to explain.

“I…I led Sir Anthony to believe that Edith didn’t want to marry him, that he was just another old bore to her, that she found him ridiculous and had just been stringing him along to amuse herself. After that, there was nothing she could say to convince him that she truly did care for him.”

She watches Matthew’s face carefully as she speaks these words, seeing the confusion leave his face to be replaced by understanding, tinged by what is unmistakably a hint of anger.

He speaks carefully, clearly wanting to make sure she doesn’t miss a single word of what he has to say.

“And now you feel guilty, you feel like this would never have happened had you not been so spiteful to Edith all those years ago?”

Suddenly not able to meet his eyes, Mary lowers her gaze to the floor and nods. As ever, he understands her completely.

“What is it you want from me Mary? My forgiveness, my absolution? I must confess, while nothing you could tell me could ever stop me loving you, absolution is hard to give while Edith is so unhappy.”

Mary wrings her hands, this being harder to hear than she had imagined.

‘I don’t know! I just know I couldn’t keep it to myself, have you think well of me while my sister lays inconsolable upstairs because of something I did.”

Matthew sighs. “I see”.

“I told you you’d be disappointed, that you’d be ashamed of me.”

Matthew nods. “I am disappointed, but only because I know that you’re better than that, that you were better than that then and most certainly are now.”

“Perhaps,” Mary says, unwilling to take the lifeline her husband is throwing her “but it still does not change the fact that I wasn’t in that moment, it still does not change what I did”.

“No, it does not,” says Matthews, a curious look creeping over his face. “I hate the way you act towards Edith, you know that. It’s beneath you, and she doesn’t deserve it”.

Mary sighs. “Yes, I know. But we bring the worst out in each other, we always have.

“I won’t have it. I won’t allow you to be that spiteful. I won’t allow you to be less than you are.”

Mary looks up at him in surprise. Matthew has often been firm with her before, but this is new.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at her for a long moment, as if sizing her up, and then comes the question. “Mary, have you ever been spanked?”.

She cannot help herself, and involuntarily she gulps, her mind flying back to moments in her childhood when she and Edith had frequently been chastised for some quarrel or other.

Matthew clearly surmises the answer from her face, for he says merely “I see”.

“Edith and I, the way we are, let us say it isn’t new, and our parents tolerated it far less then than they do now.”

Matthew nods and then launches into a speech that feels like it’s been a long time coming. “Well, I want to make it clear that I am no longer going to tolerate it. This rivalry has gone on long enough. You’ve seen first-hand what it can do, how much you hurt your sister. Whatever she may do, you will not take part in it, and if you do then you’ll feel my hand on your backside. Are we clear?” 

Mary is taken aback by the forceful words from her usually gentle husband, but despite her pride, something in her is relieved that Matthew wants to take charge in this area. 

“I... loathe as I am to admit it, I think it would help.”

At this, Matthew gives her a small smile, and she can see pride flicker across his face. She guesses that he knows how hard that was for her to admit. 

His next words are not so welcome, though they don’t come as a surprise.

“In fact, since you’re clearly feeling guilty, no don’t deny it now, perhaps I should show you what you can expect.”

She takes a step back, slipping back into her usual composed manner, drawing herself up tall and placing an impassive mask onto her face. However much she’d like to give in, it simply isn’t in her character to make this easy. 

“There’s no need, I am quite capable of controlling myself” 

Matthew, damn him, is not fooled, and he stalks quickly across the room to her side and takes her wrist.

“Oh, I think there’s every need. The fact that you let your guard down enough to tell me about this is sign enough that you need this, that it’s long overdue”.

With that, he takes her wrist and pulls her over to the bed, quickly toppling her over his lap, leaving her in an undignified position across his thighs, staring at the floor.

‘You can’t, Anna, what if she comes in?”

He is not dissuaded. “She won’t, Robert has them occupied removing any sign a wedding ever occurred. And if she does, all she’ll see is her mistress getting what she needs. She’d keep your secret; we both know she would.”

Mary does know this; she trusts her maid without question. 

With that, Matthew clearly decides that enough is enough and brings his hand down hard across the seat of her dress. After a moment, he decides that this provides too much protection and tilting her forward so that he can gather up her dress and chemise at her waist, pausing only for a moment to yank down her drawers so she’s left completely unprotected.

He then begins in earnest, raining down swat after swat on her vulnerable behind. He’s clearly determined to make a point, as very shortly her entire bottom feels like it’s caught alight, and she soon finds herself squirming on his lap in an attempt to do something, anything, to avoid his relentless hand. He doesn’t stop for several long minutes, seemingly intent on painting her entire behind a crimson red. Very soon, she finds herself sobbing uncontrollably, in a way she hasn’t done in years.

At this point he seems to decide he’s made it through her defences, as it is now that he begins to scold, punctuating his words with swats that are somehow even stronger than before.

“You” SWAT “will not give in” SWAT “to these spiteful” SWAT “urges” SWAT “she is your sister” SWAT “and you are better” SWAT “than that.”

At this point he pauses, “Mary, you are her elder sister. You may not believe it, but she follows your lead. If you cease this childish quarrel, then I feel quite certain she will also. And if you don’t, then you know what will happen. Am I understood?”

Overwhelmed by the pain in her posterior and by the emotions this whole ordeal has dredged up, all Mary can do is nod.

Luckily, this seems to satisfy her husband, as he finishes up by adding five stinging swats, and pulling her upright so that she’s facing him once more.

“Mary, dearest, I love you and I would never knowingly hurt you unless I thought it was for your own good, please tell me you understand that?”

Despite the searing pain this treatment has caused, Mary finds she does, she understands and feels fully calm and forgiven for perhaps the first time in her adult life.

‘Yes Matthew, I do.” Then, a little embarrassed, she turns away. “Perhaps we should tell Edith about this, if anything could cheer her up, hearing I was chastised as a child would.”

Mathew smiles at her indulgently, and reaches out to her, bringing her tight into an embrace. He doesn’t have to say anything in reply, the love she can feel emanating from him is more than enough.

**"Present" day, the day after Mary and Tom's conversation, 1925. Mary and Tom are in the entrance hall, having just seen Robert, Cora and Rosamund off to visit Mrs Patmore **

****

Mary follows behind Tom, taking her gloves off as she walks. The air is thick with the memory of their last conversation. 

“I ought to be very angry at you, summoning Granny to tick me off,” Mary says, mentally kicking herself at how airy and carefree she sounds.

Tom is clearly unwilling to give her even an inch, and he replies in kind.

“I was amazed she came at my call”

“She said your letter was very eloquent. She was quite persuaded.”

Tom turns to face her, and it is clear in his face that his tolerance for small talk is all but exhausted.

“So, what are you going to do?” he asks.

Mary stares at her feet, finding Tom’s eyes rather hard to meet.

“As soon as Granny left, I sent Henry a telegram to get the next train. Hopefully, he’ll be here by teatime” she says, tossing her head back and injecting a little of her usual bravado into her voice.

Tom, as usual, is not fooled, and asks the only question that still matters, his gaze steady and unrelenting.

“What about Edith?”

Mary feels her face fall.

‘That’s a harder task, I’m ready to say I’m sorry, but why should she want to forgive me?”

She sighs, and looks around at the room, seeing the footman hovering by the door.

“In fact, there was something I wanted to tell you, but this is not the place, will you come up to my room? We have time before tea.”

Tom merely nods in reply, and they head up the great staircase, turning right and along the gallery to Mary’s room, which this time is thankfully devoid of her Grandmother.

Tom gets right to the point

“So, what is it?”

“You asked me before what Matthew would have said about...about what I did to Edith"

At this, Tom looks a little abashed.

“That was unfair, I shouldn’t have thrown that in your face. I know how much you still miss him.”

Mary shrugs “Perhaps not, though I was certainly being contrary enough to provoke you.”

At that, Tom snorts and seems to suppress a smile.

“But I think unknowingly you touched on the one thing that could have gotten through to me. I know exactly what Matthew would have said Tom, he’d have been so very disappointed in me.”

Here, she pauses, knowing the next bit is going to be the hardest to say. “More importantly, I know exactly what he would have done.”

Tom looks at her, curiosity clear on his face “Oh?”

“Matthew and I, we had an arrangement. He thought so very much of me and held me to such high standards, he truly did believe that I was a nice person’.

Tom nods. “So he did, and so you are, beneath it all”.

“As you’ve said. Well, whenever I fell below those exacting standards, often due to a quarrel with Edith, we would, well he would spank me.”

At this, Tom seems far less surprised than Mary expected.

“Do you know how close I came to putting you over my knee yesterday? You can be infuriating in the extreme when you want to be, and I can easily understand Matthew giving in to that impulse.”

Mary nods. “I’m sure you can, but I truly did agree to it, he wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

She can see that Tom can sense what might be coming, but he still makes her spell it out. “So, what is it you want from me, help explaining this to Henry?”

She sighs and looks down at her hands. “Not quite, I was wondering if you might… take Matthew’s place in this, one final time? We were all so close during that time and I think… I think he’d approve”.

“You’re asking me to spank you?” Tom asks, his tone tinged with incredulity.

Before she can take it back, she makes herself reply.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Tom asks, “If I do it will not be some token thing, you wrecked your sister's life yesterday, quite possibly forever”.

Mary stares down at her hands and nods. “I know, I would not expect it to be.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to explain all this to Henry, to ask this of him?”

“Perhaps, but this feels right, I feel like Matthew would want it.”

“Very well then,” says Tom and beckons to her.

Slowly, Mary crosses the room and allows Tom to pull her down over his broad lap and divest her of her outer layers. When he reaches her chemise and drawers he hesitates.

“It’s alright Tom, if you must, you must”

She then knows he’s taken her words to heart, as she feels her chemise be lifted to her waist and her drawers eased down her thighs.

Like Matthew before him, he wastes no time starting a fierce onslaught of swats that immediately set her posterior alight, the pain far worse than Mary had remembered.

Tom is clearly determined that she feel this, his earlier promise that this would be no token punishment already being more than fulfilled.

His pace is unrelenting, and he does not cease raining down swats when she begins to squirm, nor when the first tears fall from her eyes.

Finally, when she thinks she can take no more, he stops.

“Mary, you’re my sister, and just like Matthew, I think you’re far nicer than many people think. You did a horrible thing, but I forgive you, Matthew would forgive you if he was here, and I think in time, so will Edith”.

Mary nods, so overwhelmed that for once, she cannot reach for the words.

“However, I want you to remember this, there’s far too much at stake for both you and Edith for there to ever be a repeat of this.”

Tom then reaches across to her dressing table and picks up the silver hairbrush left there by Anna earlier in the day.

“After I'm through with this, it'll be over and we’ll put the whole thing behind us”.

Mary gasps at the promise of more punishent, but steels her resolve to take this gracefully, she knows she’s earned it.

Without further warning, Tom brings the brush down hard on her already burning behind.

If she thought the swats had been bad before, it's nothing compared to the pain her brush inflicts, and she soon finds herself sincerely regretting insisting to Anna that the brush be left out, regretting any and all actions that have led to this moment.

Finally, overwhelmed by pain and regret, she starts to sob, all composure leaving her.

As if this is what Tom has been waiting for he drops the brush to the ground, and gently helps her to her feet, turning away to allow her privacy to right her clothing.

She pulls her drawers gingerly over her burning behind, gasping a little as they meet punished flesh. She then lowers her chemise, slip, and finally dress back into place, composes her face and taps Tom on the shoulder.

He turns around and gives her a questioning look.

“I’m fine Tom and I’m about to be a lot better once I’ve spoken to Henry”

A smile creeps onto Tom’s face

“I think I’d better let you clean yourself up a little, otherwise he’ll be asking you awkward questions.”

Mary glances in the mirror and sees that he has a point.

“I think I’d better call for Anna, luckily, she’s discrete”

“I’m sure she is. I’ll leave you now, I’ll go down to meet Henry’s train later.”

Mary nods her assent and watches as he moves towards the door. Just as he’s about to exit, she can’t help herself but ask

“Do you think Matthew and darling Sybil are up there together? Watching?”

Tom nods. “I’m quite certain they are Mary, and I’m quite certain they approve, Matthew especially”.

This brings a smile to both of their faces, and after he’s left the room, Mary crosses to pull the bell to summon Anna, resolved to put on her best face for the conversations to come.

First, a visit to Matthew down in the village, and then to settle things with Henry. She’s ready.


End file.
